


She will walk in beauty

by Wapwani



Category: Last Tango In Halifax
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2733971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wapwani/pseuds/Wapwani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What brought Kate back? </p><p>These two characters have taken over my brain a bit. Hencewhy this piece of overthinking on all the things unsaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She will walk in beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Title note: Not really directly related to this story, but Caroline always makes me think of Byron’s ‘She Walks In Beauty’

When she stuck her hand out, it was a challenge. A challenge rising from anger and frustration, but that anger was born of the fear and pain of not being good enough. “Do you want to dance?” No turning back now, no mistaking the intent of her outstretched hand. She had thrown down the gauntlet, chancing more hurt. She was flashing a middle finger to the universe really, daring it to do its worst. But also, underlying all that pain and fear and anger, was a small sliver of compassion that had birthed hope. The realisation that she still cared about the other woman’s suffering, despite everything she had done to close herself off - not staying in the same room for more time than it took to complete the business at hand, no smiles, no softness, pulling back from touch. Despite the walls and barbed wire and giant flashing signs that said “I DO NOT CARE” – signs aimed inwards as much as outwards toward Caroline – despite all that, compassion still had taken root. 

Kate had learned Caroline’s face so well. Knew what she was thinking and feeling even as the woman strove to master every nuance of her expressions. Caroline’s infamous control had cracked. Her bitter response to Kate’s Christmas wishes had shown just how deep her own pain went. Caroline had always done the expected thing when it came to Kate, had prided herself on not rocking the boat. When Kate had dropped the bombshell of her pregnancy, even as Caroline sat there shaken to her core and awash in a tide of ‘what if’s, even then, Caroline had dragged her professional self to the fore and dealt fairly with what was in front of her. But when Kate had extended the impersonal nicety of a Christmas greeting, Caroline had finally cracked and her pain seeped out. Oh, she had reigned herself back in quickly. Replied with an impersonal nicety of her own, ‘and that was that’, Kate thought as she left the reception. There’d be no further reasons to see Caroline Elliot, not as her boss now that she was approaching her time, not as the daughter of the woman whose wedding she was playing the piano at, not as an oh-so-welcome rock of support in a time of blind panic, not as a lover, and certainly not as a partner who she could trust to help her raise a child so that she grew into a woman as kind and intelligent and…. In her car, alone, driving back to a quiet house, Kate had pushed all thoughts of the future out of her head and focused on the road in front her; a road she had chosen to travel alone. Because she did not care. She did not care that Caroline Elliot had looked both despondent and slightly hopeful when Kate had walked over to say her goodbyes. She did not care that Caroline had spoken so simply of extraordinary love that she had made it seem such an easy thing to achieve. That Caroline had come to her in her time of need, and had asked for nothing and expected less. That Caroline had looked and sounded as though all the joy had gone out of her life. She did not care. She would not care. How could she care? After every betrayal of trust and faith, after the doubts about Caroline’s motivations had hardened into a weight that dragged the light out of her own heart, how could Kate possibly care? But yet she did. 

And so she had turned around and gone back, defiant. She would prove to herself, as if she needed the proof, that Caroline wasn’t capable of overcoming her own fears. That she would not dare any public declaration. ‘She wouldn’t even hold my hand!’ Kate thought ‘not at her mother’s wedding!’ So when she marched up to Caroline, and refused to think about how sad and alone and beautiful she looked, and threw down the challenge to join her in the most public show of physical intimacy (legally) possible at a wedding, Kate fully expected to be rebuffed. ‘Ten seconds’ she thought, ‘that’s all she’s getting.’ 

Caroline barely needed three. 

Kate could actually see Caroline’s survival instincts responding before her brain could get in the way, and then watched her struggle with not knowing what she was risking her precious propriety for. She recognized the moment when Caroline finally, finally, let go, and her heart soared. Kate led – that never happened with them! Kate was giddy with it; the power of being able to draw Caroline to the space that seemed to have been left just for them; the rush of being able to pull Caroline’s arms around her; being able to touch that sweet face again, to gaze into the depth of Caroline’s eyes and see all her hopes reflected back at her. Everything else that followed was gravy. Very satisfying and thoroughly passionate gravy to be sure, but gravy nonetheless. Because the meat and potatoes of this relationship, she realised, was that Caroline Elliot was finally allowing herself to be brave and daring and magnificent – to be the woman that Kate McKenzie had fallen in love with.


End file.
